Swift Satisfaction
by bogglewoolf
Summary: I saw him scramble off and I knew I had done my job. I would not need to get my sweet revenge. The paranoia that would bite at him each day was satisfaction enough. ROBSTAR slight tinge of funny, but a semi dark plotline


Being in a foreign land long enough gives you time to adjust. You pick up the language, meet some people, shack up. You lose the customs of your former home. But never the feeling. The affection for things resembling your hometown never fully dissipates. You always have a hole. So, like normal people would and do, you vainly try to fill it with inconsequential things. Some kids eat chocolate or go jogging. Not me. I, of course, have to be different than them all, despite my tries to blend in.

I save the freaking day.

That's right. I get the whole costume thing going on and then I climb onto my justice space ship and zoom to help the helpless. As a kid, this was my passion. I _loved _saving people and fighting crime. But now, nine years later, it gets a little old. And my fighting abilities dwindle as time ekes by as well.

Seven years ago we split. The Titans, I mean. It was all cause of dumb Beast Boy. He just couldn't keep that yammering mouth shut for two seconds. In confidentiality, I had confided that, after a night out, I had kissed Wally. But taken into account the fact that I had had more than six shots and that Wally had started it, I figured no harm done. But no, Beast Boy, who I had _thought_ wouldn't say a word, had blabbed it out at breakfast. Robin and I's relationship quickly went downhill. He went out more, never returning until one o' clock, inebriated and angry. A month later, I flew out of our window crying, leaving Robin unconscious on the purple bed covers. He had been a finger's length away from upper hooking me in the chin when, with a blast of green energy, I put him down roughly on the bed. Looking back, I sobbed whole-heartedly remembering how hilarious it had been to purchase those mauve duvet covers. And then I walked, er…flew, out of the Titan's life. I knew they disbanded; it was slandered across every tabloid magazine. **TEEN TITANS BECOME TEEN NO ONES **or sometimes, **STAR SPUTTERS OUT AND THE TEAM FOLLOWS. **Needless to say, this was not what I wanted to deal with after breaking off the most serious relationship of my life. I retreated to Gotham City and fought crime there. I was happy.

Almost.

I still missed my friends. I didn't dare make new friends. I fought in alleys and my language transformed, along with my attitude. I ditched the lame and innocent purple get-up and designed a new costume. Tight spandex leggings tucked into dagger worthy boot heels, black skin-tight tank top, and hair always tied back in tight ponytail. I opted to wear a mask, hiding my eyes. They betrayed me much too often. And of course, the green stones that unleash my powers taken from my chest armor fashioned onto a velvet chocker and fastened around my neck. First plan of attack on those villains; capture by apparel.

Unlike all my former buddies, I didn't get big. No model signings, no big reporter jobs, and no actress gigs. I was normal, and pretty damn poor at that. The black sheep as always. Raven a major poetry writer, Gar a world wide recognized comedian, Cyborg owns a huge car company, and Robin adopted the Bruce Wayne industries. I shied away from that part of town. Run-ins with him result in serious nervous breakdowns. The day Bruce passed, he walked into the offices, already prepared for this day. Just seeing his back, the messy and untidy black hair jumping at all angles; it sent my heart jumping and doing cartwheels in my chest.

But I got over it eventually. Forgot him, them, myself. Stopped caring about myself. I lived for my work and all I did was battle. It was my release. Punching the bad guys in the face was my sweet haven. But then I quit my job. With no income, there is no cash. And you can't get groceries without money. No way was I going to rob a store. That would be completely hypocritical. So I just a stopped eating. And that's how I got here. Underneath the feet of some lowlife criminal, unable to beat him because of my low blood sugar levels.

"It appears that the infamous Twilight isn't so big and bad after all." The villain curtly spat at me. He compressed his foot against my chest and I closed my eyes in a haze of light-headedness. Behind the white linen of his mask, I imagined his eyes boring into my skull. His lips would of course be curved into a smirk at his victory. He reached down and had almost ripped my mask off when I whimpered.

He stopped and laughed.

"Oh come on, you don't mind letting me see your pretty face. If it's anywhere near as gorgeous as this…" Strong villain man drawled off, running his hand up my thigh. My eyes grew wide and I gasped in shock. I wriggled and squirmed, trying to break out of his grasp, but I was too malnourished. My strength evaporated and I stopped struggling, signing myself to whatever he wanted to do with me.

"Before I learn your darkest secret, thought you might care to know. My name is Nightwing." And he tore my façade right off my face.

I was naked. Anyone who looked could see straight into my soul. Nightwing's face contorted into shock and confusion before releasing his hold on my chest and jumping back. I began breathing again and felt the bruises from our fight beginning to form. One of his punches had really gotten me in the cheek. I raised my hand and rubbed it softly, groaning quietly. I jumped to my feet and struck a I-will-fight-you pose, but the sheer exhaustion wore me down and I tottered back and forth. Nightwing reached forward and held me. I batted him away uselessly and he pinned my hands to my side, staring into my eyes.

"What have you done?" he asked, slicing the silence with a tone meant to caress rather than cut. He inspected me carefully, and I admit, I was a little befuddled. Why was some random villain eye-raping me? I screamed, motioned behind him and he turned. A low trick, I know, but he was a bit stronger than I, so I needed desperate measures. He whipped around and I took the opportunity to shoot into the air.

I almost made it, too. But he was clever and his hand gripped my ankle and dragged me down.

"Star…" Nightwing murmured. I placed a "what the fuck did you just say?" look on my face and slyly slipped my hand up his torso. His mask fluttered to the floor.

As if burned, he flung me into the wall and groped for his mask. Gaining strength from the exhilaration, I grabbed him and roughly shoved him into the same wall I had moments earlier occupied.

"Who the hell are you and how do you know my old name?" I icily slashed. Nightwing look surprised.

"When did your English get so good?" he asked, cocking his head slightly. Now I was really confused. How does he _know _all this about me? Deciding to learn a bit more about him, I defiantly burned his mask off. Blue eyes wide, he realized he could hide his identity no longer. He looked me right in the eyes.

I was sent back nine years.

Nightwing was Robin. I staggered back and tears rushed up. Apparently they had been making themselves comfortable in the "Robin" resevoir. I collapsed to the floor and he walked forward, reaching. I rose and punched him square in the jaw.

"That, my dearest Robin, is for every girl who has ever been taken for granted by her guy." I growled, the anger pressing at my being for the past seven year bubbling over. He look pissed. Any self hatred for his earlier actions towards me evaporated and he relished the punches he had thrown. I flew straight up and he had to look up to see into my eyes. He laughed quietly.

"Come on, Star. That's below the belt." I smiled coldly and swooped down suddenly, kicking him in the most sacred of all places. Huddled on the floor, I crossed my arms and looked at him.

"That, my lovebird, is what you will get everyday. I will hunt you down, wherever you hide, and kick you so swift and so hard, you'll never walk again." I said happily. I floated into the air and flew into the night.

Just to be cool, I used my green energy to sign my name around him…and singe his butt a little bit.

Hey, he deserved it.

I saw him scramble off and I knew I had done my job. I would not need to get my sweet revenge. The paranoia that would bite at him each day was satisfaction enough.


End file.
